


A Smile You Could Get Used To

by mggislife2789 (dontshootmespence)



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Headaches & Migraines, Meet-Cute, Mental Health Issues, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22378189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontshootmespence/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Spencer sees yet another doctor for help with his headaches and meets someone there that changes his life for good.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 71





	A Smile You Could Get Used To

“You really aren’t making it subtle?” Rosie said as you shuffled around the files.

Your eyes snapped between her and the files for a moment before you realized she was talking to you. “Wait, what?”

She motioned toward the man in the waiting room with her head. “The lanky brown haired guy in the corner. You keep looking at him. You think he’s cute.”

“I do not,” you laughed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go put these files in their respective rooms.”

Rosie coughed and spoke, “And of course you’ll make sure that you’re the nurse for cute boy over there.”

“Shut up.”

You strode down the hall and placed patients’ files into the bins near their rooms, leaving the last one, whose name was apparently Spencer Reid, for your and Dr. Bucholz’s room. Okay, so maybe Rosie had a point.

“You did it, didn’t you?” She asked when you came back.

“I plead the fifth.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his leg bouncing up and down, his hands clutching the sides of his head. He looked to be in a lot of pain.

Rosie motioned back toward the clock. “It’s time for his appointment. And I say go for it. He is pretty cute.”

—

Grabbing the sign-in sheet to quickly cross off his name, you called for him. “Spencer Reid?”

He gently waved his hand and stood up to accompany you into the room. Even with sunglasses, he still looked uncomfortable so you flipped the lights off. “Thanks,” he said softly.

“Please, have a seat.” You gestured toward the chair and introduced yourself. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I work with Dr. Bucholz. I just need to ask you a couple of questions.”

Spencer started to tell you about his headaches; they were blinding and starting to get in the way of his everyday life. “I’ve been to numerous other doctors and they all keep saying that nothing is wrong with me, but these headaches won’t stop no matter what I do.”

“And you think Dr. Bucholz will be able to help you?”

“I don’t know. But he’s one of the only specialists in the area I haven’t seen, so I’m exhausting all options.”

When he winced at the light streaming through the window, you shut the blinds. “I’m really sorry about what’s happening, oh, Dr. Reid. You’re a doctor yourself?”

“Triple Ph.D. Not an MD.”

“Still impressive.” Cute and smart? There had to be something wrong with him. He was too good to be true. “I’m planning on pursuing an MD myself.”

For the first time since he’d walked in the door, he cracked a smile. “Really? What do you want to specialize in if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Neuroscience actually. I’m enrolled in Georgetown now. Hoping to conduct research in schizophrenia. It, um- my uncle suffers from it.” Why you were divulging your family history to a man you hadn’t even met no less seen more than 30 minutes ago, you weren’t sure.

“My mother does, too,” he replied, barely above a whisper. “I was actually thinking about studying schizophrenia at one point too, but then I got involved with the Bureau.”

“FBI, you don’t cease to impress, Dr. Reid.” Why did that come out of your mouth? You blushed and looked away, feeling every inch the love-struck schoolgirl. The cute, sexy and intelligent FBI doctor for was intriguing, but the Bucholz would be ready momentarily, so you bid Spencer adieu and wished him luck in finding the root of his health problems.

“Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it.”

—

Apparently, Dr. Reid didn’t get the answer he was looking for because he stormed out of the office and for some reason you felt the need to run after him. “Dr. Reid? Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“What treatments have you had so far? What tests?”

“Umm, I’ve been prescribed various Triptans, but they haven’t made a dent, dihydroergotamines, Lasmiditan, calcitonin gene-related peptide monoclonal antibodies. I’ve had MRIs and CT scans, but nothing shows up.” He was desperate for an answer.

You felt for him. Technically, you were still a nurse and not supposed to suggest any kind of medical treatment. “Listen, I’m not supposed to suggest treatments, but has anyone tested your vitamin levels?”

“Yes. Some levels deviate a bit from the normal but nothing to suggest it’s the reason for my headaches.”

“Well, I can’t suggest medical treatments, but I could mention that 500 mg of magnesium, 400 of vitamin B-2 and 150 of coenzyme Q10 have been shown to help treat migraines. Dr. Bucholz is a great physician, but he can get tunnel vision sometimes. I’m surprised none of the doctors you’ve been to haven’t suggested a simple vitamin regiment.”

Despite the sunglasses covering his eyes, he looked as if a light bulb went off in his head. “Thank you, Y/N. I’ll try that.”

“I hope it helps,” you said before turning to return to the office.

Clearing his throat, he sputtered. “Y/N, w-would you like to get a coffee sometime?”

“Like a date, Dr. Reid?”

“Y-yea,” he stuttered. “Yea, like a date.”

“I’d like that. But one thing?”

He raised a brow, confused.

“Only after you figure out what’s causing your headaches. If you’re still having them, we should go out to dinner, not coffee. The caffeine will exacerbate it…obviously,” you said on a laugh. You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a card. “My number is at the bottom.” You could get used to his smile.

—

Spencer, as he insisted you call him, texted you just a few days later, but it took weeks to finally get together. As you walked into the restaurant, you pulled your pea coat tighter around you, the chill in the air creeping up your neck. He was already inside and seated at your table, looking much more alive and a hell of a lot happier than he was the last time you’d seen him. “Spencer, hi!”

Standing up from the table, he wrapped his arms around you. “Sorry, I just- We’ve been talking for a while now so I feel like I know you, you know?”

“I get it,” you laughed. “I’m a hugger anyway. How’s your head?”

“Great! Amazing! The headaches are completely gone. I can’t thank you enough for the recommendation. I was about to start reading migraine studies just to get some ideas, but this is better. Now, my headaches are gone and I got to meet you.” Smiling, he placed his hand over yours. “I was afraid I inherited my mother’s illness to be honest.”

You inhaled sharply. “I know the fear.” Talking nonstop for six weeks made you feel close despite the fact that this was the first time you were seeing him since his office visit. “But you’re okay. That’s what matters, right?”

“Definitely. Now, how about we push all the sad shit aside and actually have our first date,” he replied with a smile.

It was definitely one you could get used to.


End file.
